In The Middle
by just-a-simple-phangirl
Summary: The leader of the country of Panem sits in his quiet office, he know what is to come. He decides to begin to document his view of the uprising that took place in Panem after the 74th annual Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Some call me a monster, a killer, heartless. Other, they think I'm a genius, that I would only do what's best for the people, that I would never harm anyone. The rest, well they don't really have much of a choice.

Many disagreed with the tradition started almost 74 years ago, a brutal tradition, but a vital one. When Panem showed signs of an uprising, we had to find a way to contain that, anyway that we could. The people of Panem might not understand this, they might think that it amuses me and that I laugh at the pain of other. That I truly only think of this as a game.

But, even I understand the severity and horror of the games, it must be carried on, and everyone knew that. Well, at least I thought they knew that, I thought they understood this part of their culture, I thought they understood the necessity. But, my view was changed at the reaping of the 74th annual Hunger Games. I could sense the trouble in the air when the small slip of paper was pulled out of the oversized glass dome in District 12.

My name is Coriolanus Snow. The president of the country of Panem, and is the story of what really happened during the Rebellion.

A/N - I know that this story has probably already been written, but this is my version of this and I hope you enjoy! Also I don't have a cover image yet but I am working on it :)


	2. Chapter 2

I sat in the large chair that faced outwards down the long hallway that I called my office. Dozens of avoxs lined up on either side of the expensive carpet the colour of blood that lay along the floor. I kept my face silent and emotionless, but I still tried to look threatening. This is the 12th and final time this year that I have been seated in the exact same situation. The reaping of the Hunger Games is definitely not my favourite part of the year, but it always does interest me in a way. I enjoy seeing the ways that the teens who are chosen react when they're names are read off that small piece of paper that could most likely be the death of them. There's always the ones who stay silent, those are the ones who only let a few tears escape from their worried eyes as they let go of their parents hands, not knowing if this is the last day that they will ever see them again. Others try to fight it, thinking that they will be able to beat the odds, to escape the grip of death that has just been handed to them. And oddly enough, some seem almost keen, excited, like what they are entering is a talent show, an opportunity to show off their skill.

Many people wouldn't assume that I would think into it so much, but after years of observing, I've ought to do some thinking.

Finally, a huge holographic screen materialized in front of me, proudly broadcasting the symbol of Panem. The screen flashes to the view of a large stage that displays only a microphone and who large glass domes that are full of white slips of paper, each with the name of one of the teens from this district. I could see that there was quite a lot more ballots entered this year, which the residents of the district can volunteer to enter in exchange for much needed resources for their families. With District 12 being the poorest of the district, this was defiantly not uncommon. Surrounding the stage stood the residents of District 12, all of them nervously waiting to learn who their district would be loosing next. At exactly two o'clock The mayor of the district approached the microphone and began to read the same speech that I have heard over and over. I mostly zoned this part out, focusing on the faces in the crowd who nervously turn around, their nerves evident on their face. The mayor began to explain the structure of the games, even though everyone already knew exactly what happens. The list of past victors was read out, surprisingly short, with only two names making up the entire list. By now I am quite bored, thinking of everything that I could have gotten done n this time. I didn't let my face show it though, I was never aloud to show any emotion, especially boredom and distain. The mayor knew that everyone who is watching the broadcast on television is laughing, at the district, at the people. Finally, the reaper was introduced. Effie Trincket walked confidently out onto the stage, sporting the latest of her fashions that probably seemed absurd to the people of the districts. There's was so much colour and individuality in the capitol compared to the grey tones of the uniforms in 12. That day her wig was a soft pink that didn't at all belong with the bright green jumpsuit that she is wearing. She then opened ith her usual greeting.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _EVER_ in your favour."

"I am honored to be here, and to fulfill the responsibility of choosing this years candidates from District 12 for the 74th annual Hunger Games!" Effie continued excitedly.

A polite clapping rose through the crowd, everyone anxious to get this over with for another year.

"Ladies first." Said Effie, reaching into the first bowl.

Effie selected a small slip from the sea of them, and slowly unfolded it, building suspense.

"Primrose Everdeen!" She called out.

I didn't think anything really of this name, it was just a routine reaping. I glanced around at the small view of the crowd that I had at the camera angle that was being shower. A young girl slowly approached the stage. Suddenly, the young girl, primrose, stopped in her tracks and turned to look at something. I heard a small voice yelling something

"Prim" Yelled the voice "Prim!"

I shifted in my seat, focusing on keeping my face neutral.

"I volunteer!"

Now I let the confusion show, but only for a split second. A volunteer? It's been years.

And with that, I knew that something was going to happen, I just wasn't sure what yet.


	3. Chapter 3

Now, as I sit here alone, writing away what I'm sure are the last few hours of my life, I've had a lot of time to think, about how if Katniss had never stood up to volunteer, or if the young Primrose was never reaped, nothing that has happened would have happened, everything in Panem would be different.

Or maybe it wouldn't, maybe what happened was inevitable, and the rebellion would have happened even if Katniss never took the night lock into her hand. I guess I'll never know. That's the weird thing about fate, even if there were actually a way that you could take a minute to change what will happen, you would never be able to go back to fix anything, and you can really never know the exact outcomes of your decisions. I think about this quite a lot, and to this day the mysteries of fate still astound me.

So as I sat at my desk, staring silently at the holographic screen, shocked, I really began to think about this. How would this decision work out, what is this going to do to fate, how would fate react? In the brief moment of shock that I had, I knew that something was starting, something big.

The crowd that was crammed into the small area surrounding the stage remained silent, no doubt in the same state of confusion that I was in. Effie made a weak attempt to get the crowd to give a round of applause to this volunteer, but they remained silent.

After an awkward silence that lasted uncomfortably long, a shifting began in the crowd. Each person slowly lifted their hands to their lips and touched the first three fingers to their mouth, then lifting their hand to the sky. I'd heard of this symbol of respect that is practiced in district 12, butI've never seen it in actual use. The tribute remained silent on the stage and the gesture slowly faded and it was time for the next name to be reaped.

Effie Trinket reached into the glass bowl on the other side of her, some what awkwardly. I stared at the screen, less shocked as I was, but anxious for what was going to happen.

"Peeta Mellark"

Well, nothing strange there. Just a normal name reaped, there was no reaction. In a way, it was somewhat sad actually. So much attention was obviously going to be on Katniss, but Peeta would likely fall into the shadows. A young boy that looked around the same age as Katniss slowly approached the stage. He took his place on the opposite side of Effie.

Effie asked if there were any volunteers, but nobody moved. The crowd was still uncomfortably silent. The mayor began to speak again, but by this time I was lost in thought.

Then, I didn't know what fate was going to offer. I had no clue that such a small gesture would lead to what we have gone through.

The tributes left the stage and the screen cut back to the symbol of the capitol. After the screen dematerialized, I remained still in my chair, still deep in thought. The avoxs that lined the office remained still as well, unable to move unless I give them the word. But now was not the time. They would stay here until I was ready to leave as well.

Soon, the Tributes would begin to arrive in the capitol and the training for the games will begin. Ceaser Flickerman is no doubt ecstatic about this new drama, the views for his talk show will be through the roof tonight. I've never been fond of Ceaser, but he adds a sense of entertainment to the games, a sort of sense that implies that its really only a game, nothing more than a friendly competition that is all about the people and the drama.

There was a knock on my office door. I sighed heavily and nodded for the closest avox to open the door. There was no doubt who it was going to be, I just wasn't ready to think about anything else right now. I wasn't ready for fate to start working out it's crazy scheme.


End file.
